What Is Your Name?
by Escape Trampoline
Summary: Isuke sighed through her nose, leaning toward the window next to her, adjusting her sunglasses. If she could fly at will, she wouldn't have to endure how droll the ride was. The same went for if she regularly saw a teenage girl running down the street with a full-sized steel girder over her shoulder, but that event was unfortunately reserved only for this particular Saturday. (AU)


**A/N: I'm not making random AUs. This is a little contributing piece I have for a superhero/villain AU thing going around elsewhere on the cluttered mess of ideas that is the internet. *coughtumblrcough* (There are more stories on tumblr by in-perfect-silence in case anyone's interested hehe)**

**In case you're looking for something shippy, then sorry, nothing here but Isuke's sarcasm and Haruki being a dork, haha**

**Also, pretend that the tildes are hearts, okay? That's like an unspoken Isuke rule. Any weird character that's not a heart at the end of her sentences is actually a heart.**

* * *

Early summer afternoon traffic. Isuke hated it for three reasons.

First, the sunlight, at its brightest at that time of the day, reflected off the windows of buildings and nearby cars to sting at her eyes.

Second, she had access to a helicopter, so if it weren't for her dearest mother and his ridiculous emergencies-only rule, tolerating it every Saturday wouldn't have even been a passing thought.

Third, it was just _so mind-meltingly boring._

Try as she might by looking for looser routes or making a few schedule adjustments, fate had made it so that every Saturday afternoon, without fail, she'd find herself listening to the sweetest symphony of honking cars and rumbling engines. Of course, the idea to set up a sound system in the van might've been a good call to ameliorate the monotony of the situation, but the menial labor that came with it? No thanks.

Getting an assistant to do it might work, though. But would mama agree? The van wasn't Isuke's to play with in the first place, but she couldn't think of any reason it would actually inconvenience him.

Isuke sighed through her nose, leaning toward the window next to her and adjusting her 4000 yen, custom-made, polarized sunglasses with a perfectly-manicured finger. If she could fly at will, she wouldn't have to endure how droll the ride was. The same went for if she regularly saw a teenage girl running down the street with a full-sized steel girder over her arm, but that event was unfortunately reserved only for this particular Saturday.

Upon seeing the girl with the girder, Isuke felt a set of three emotions mix with her boredom.

One was curiosity. What would a teenage girl intend to do with superhuman strength and a giant piece of metal, in the middle of a city, under broad daylight, no less?

Another was mild delight. As Isuke, wondering about the girl had given her something to do to pass the time waiting for the traffic to pass.

The last and most potent, however, was pure anger, caused by nothing less than the girl's dreadful attire.

Isuke was sharper than most of the city's population, but she didn't need years of investigative experience to figure out a few things about the girl that was now apparently scouting for a good, open route to the intersection ahead.

The way she carefully handled the girder to make sure it didn't cause any collateral damage with a careless swing meant that her intentions must have been peaceful, which, in turn, indicated that she was on the loosely defined 'good side' of the city's super-morality spectrum.

It was also readily evident that she was new to the business, since the awkward way that she handled herself showed that she was just a turn away from getting lost, and her clothes—thick goggles and a handkerchief to hide her face, a leather jacket with its seemingly sleeves torn off, baggy pants and combat boots—were clearly more meant for an amateur kidnapper instead of a budding hero. If it weren't for the mess of long, wild red hair and the vaguely feminine physique, Isuke would've taken her for a super-strong street thug instead.

But the amalgamation of all these facts were what ticked Isuke off. She concluded as she narrowed her eyes, that there was _someone _in the heroism business, _someone_ that affected Isuke's work, _someone _who could potentially become Isuke's arch-enemy in the future, whose clothes were amazingly tacky.

In summary, the fact that Isuke was somehow, distantly, professionally related to someone who dressed like that just infuriated Isuke more than a broken fingernail.

"Hasegawa," she said, addressing the driver. "I've got some work to take care of right now. Make sure the van doesn't get dented, okay~?"

Eyes still trained on toward the windshield, Hasegawa gave Isuke a quick, wordless thumbs-up, and after taking a large equipment case from beside her, Isuke stepped out of the van, right in the way of a motorcyclist slipping through the traffic.

The motorcyclist braked to an abrupt stop. "I-Inukai Isuke?" he said, sliding the visor of his helmet up to gawk.

"Ah, perfect timing!" Isuke pulled her shades down to stare into his eyes, putting on a dangerously saccharine smile. "If you know what's good for you, then you would gladly lend me your bike right now. You have five seconds before getting _kicked_ off instead. Five… four…"

"N-No need for that, ma'am!" Limbs trembling, the man hobbled off his motorcycle. "Go right ahead!"

Isuke chuckled to herself as she mounted the bike. "Thanks a bunch~ Isuke's underlings will probably return it to you eventually." She paused. "And please, before you offer your helmet, you should know that Isuke has absolutely no interest in putting her head in something so filthy, laws or not."

With a casual 'Ciao,' and a wave goodbye, Isuke slipped between the cars to catch up to the redhead with the tawdry attire.

* * *

Haruki craned her neck to extend her view of the traffic ahead as far as she could. Wearing ski goggles was beginning to show more cons than pros, and the limits it posed on her field of vision were beginning to worry her more with each passing moment.

_If I don't get to that next corner in time, _she thought as she felt a bead of sweat trickle down her temple, _she'd definitely get away. And she's smarter this time, so catching her afterwards would just be harder_...

As she began to adjust her grip on the girder she held over her shoulder, she spotted a spot in the street that looked _just _open enough for the purposes she was thinking of.

A toothy grin formed on her face under the bandanna she used as a mask. She crouched, tensed the muscles in her legs in just the right way, and leaped dozens of feet in the air, flying over the roofs of half a dozen cars and leaving behind a few cracks on the cement she stood on moments before.

Unfortunately, her inexperience in using her leg strength for such a purpose had gotten the best of her, and she slightly overshot, crashing into the metal container of a poorly-parked ice truck.

"Agh, sorry, sorry!" Grateful that the girder she brought hadn't hit anything aside from asphalt, Haruki shoved herself off the mass of deformed steel that she landed on. After dusting herself off, she picked up the girder and adjusted her grip to handle it more like a bat, scrupulously eyeing the spaces between the buildings before her.

Over the most recent six months or so, Haruki routinely made use of the shortcuts and hidden passages in the alleyways to best make use of her time between her numerous jobs, and she knew all of its tricks and secrets, like how a clamber over one of the stacks of old plastic containers could cut walking time to the convenience store across the block by half, or how you could slide one of the worn, forgotten wooden fences up to crawl under the small space for a shortcut to the sixth bus stop. Haruki was well acquainted with the alleys—that murderous green-eyed girl was not.

Unlike Haruki, though, that same girl didn't have any qualms about openly destroying obstacles like plastic containers and wooden fences, which meant that, as winding and twisted as the alleys were, there was a chance that she might've been able to get through them a little faster than—

_There!_

It was easy to spot a girl who ran around in a prison uniform and carried around a giant pair of serrated blades with all the care people would give to holding butter knives. The way the crowd seemed to spread away from her like flies from a flame certainly helped a bit, too.

She was by no means stronger than Haruki, but even when both of her hands were occupied with holding heavy blades weapons, she was several times faster and more agile, so when caught up to her and swung the girder at her, she simply jumped and used the girder as a support for a somersault before sending Haruki a mid-air wink and resuming her escape. Landing back on the ground didn't even serve to make her stagger.

The inertia from the swing cost Haruki a few extra moments to regain her balance. By then the crowd had gotten the hint to steer clear of the two of them, and Haruki was able to throw the girder at the green-eyed girl without endangering any lives.

When it missed, she cursed under her breath.

Haruki had prepared herself to see the girl complete her escape when, when instead a small black blur fly past her head, and in the next moment, the girl's feet were caught in a net snare. Perplexed, she turned around to see where the snare came from, finding a pink-haired woman on a motorcycle, who drove with one hand on the handle and another on the grip of a large shoulder-mounted cannon of sorts. At least, Haruki _called _it a cannon—being a hand-to-hand combatant did little to help her in the field of firearms.

She wasn't really sure what to say when the woman stopped in front of her. "Uh, thanks, miss…"

The woman made a sound of what Haruki identified as disgust. _"'Miss?'"_ she said, glaring. "You really must be some kind of clueless plebeian not to recognize me."

Haruki raised her hands in front of her placatingly. "H-Hey now, I'll admit that we don't have a lot of, uh… cannon-wielding… biker… people… in this city, but you do look a little familiar…"

If the way she put her hand on her hip was any indication, the answer didn't seem to satisfy her. _"Just_ a little? This city only has one person who can use a snare cannon like this, you know. If you really need to be informed that badly, her name is Inukai Isuke, and," she jabbed at Haruki's chest with a finger, "in case you're also too dense to take a hint, that's me."

Any polite response that Haruki could've given after that died on her lips after she heard the heavy footsteps of someone rapidly approaching her from behind.

Turning head revealed that she and the pink-haired woman—Inukai Isuke, was it?—were moments away from being fatally sliced in two at the torso by a grinning teenage serial killer, and her first instinct was to pick Isuke up by the torso and leap away from the danger. She realized too late that she performed the maneuver just as Isuke was aiming to fire another net at their assailant. The misfired projectile winded up crashing to the ground beside its target just before Haruki as able to land and put Isuke back down.

Behind her, Haruki heard the girl snicker about something—that earlier moment of clumsiness, probably—before she and Isuke had to dodge two simultaneous slashes to the torso. Once the attack failed, they entered a stalemate.

"What a pain," Isuke said, cannon at the ready to fire another net in case their enemy made any sudden movements. "This would be over by now if only Girder Girl didn't step in to 'save the day.' Ugh, superheroes these days are so dense and impulsive. It's hardly heroic."

The green-eyed maniac shot Isuke a fanged grin. "What a shocker!" she said with a voice that grated on the ears. "Inukai Isuke, working with a hero? Didn't think you were the type, you know?"

Isuke's face contorted in repulsion. "I'm not as simple as trash like you. You can't even pretend to understand the things I do." Something in her cannon clicked, and her grip tensed. "So I think it's about time you shut up and went back to your cell. Bye-bye~"

Another net was shot, but the girl cut it apart with a single well-placed swing, which she followed up with a second one to Isuke's head. Isuke effortlessly sidestepped it and tripped the girl in the same motion.

"You know, I actually find it amazing how the government is making it illegal to kill you," Isuke said as she played with a control panel on the side of her cannon. "And it's doubly amazing how they keep letting you escape over and over again with how bad you are at fighting." The girl froze in the middle of getting up when Isuke aimed at her, apparently aiming to shoot at point-blank. "I don't see the point in keeping you alive, so to hell with the laws and your worthless—"

To even Isuke's surprise, the girl suddenly entered a fit of choked screaming, clawing at a black collar around her neck as she crumpled into a writhing mess on the ground.

Haruki cautiously approached her, while Isuke took a step back, lowering her cannon. "What the hell?"

"So sorry about that."

Using a set of grapple-like wires, girl with long tresses of sandy-blonde hair descended from the roof of an adjacent building, her face obscured by a thin, sleek red helmet. Her voice came out partially automatic and likely altered when she spoke, though the timber of courtesy was still clear over the mechanical quality. "If I had been just a few minutes earlier, I'd have been able to apprehend her long before she could cause you two any inconvenience. I hope that the two of you and any affected citizens are still willing to accept my sincerest apologies."

Painfully aware that she had been standing around uselessly for the past few minutes, Haruki spoke with a bit of hesitance. "Uhh, n-no problem!" she said, rubbing the back of her neck. "No one got hurt anyway. Well, except for her, I guess," she pointed at the coughing mess that was previously their enemy, "but it looked like you were the one responsible for that, so it's good, too. I think."

Isuke groaned. "Could you quit talking, please?" she said. "Everyone can hear how miserably inept you are when you do." Before continuing, she paused to sigh. "And as for you, _my dearest Helmet Princess," _she spat the name out like a harsh poison, "on my part, your interference was neither necessary nor appreciated. That snake-faced brat on the ground down there would be dead by now if you hadn't shown up."

'Helmet Princess' kept her voice even when she replied. "I'd appreciate if you would refer to me by my proper alias, Inukai Isuke. As for her…" Her helmet turned toward the incapacitated criminal on the ground. "…well, I can't assure you with complete certainty that she won't succeed in escaping an ninth time, but I will inform you that there are plans to move her to a higher-security prison in the near future, if it's any consolation."

"Whatever," Isuke said. "Go take her and leave. Just seeing you offends me. Shoo."

The stranger's head quirked slightly, possibly a subtle sign of annoyance, before she wordlessly picked the green-eyed girl up and bounded off, clearing several buildings' worth of distance within seconds with each leap. Isuke didn't even spare the stranger a passing glance, walking straight to Haruki.

"So," she began, "what do you have to say for yourself now? All you were today was an inconvenience."

Haruki was taken aback. "I-It wasn't my fault!" she said. "I'm new to this hero business, that's all. Maybe you could show me the ropes? You seem like you've been at it for a long time."

"Oh, right, I forgot that you had no idea who I was." Isuke sighed. "It's just one pleasant surprise after another today, isn't it? Ah, it's pissing me off~"

Haruki's eyebrow quirked. "Uh…"

"Anyway, I finished my introductions _before_ things got messy back there. It's your turn now." Isuke sized Haruki up, and her expression remained utterly repulsed the entire time. "So, do you have a name for yourself, or do I have to resort to calling you 'Girder Girl' for all of our future interactions henceforth?"

"'Girder Girl'?" Haruki considered it for a moment. "Well, it does have a bit of a catchy ring to it, I guess…" She stopped in her tracks when she saw Isuke's expression take on even more disappointment. "B-But, no, I'm not going to accept that. I'm, uh…" _What was that name I thought up for myself, again? I had some kind of symbol related to it on my back, I'm sure…_

She snapped her fingers triumphantly. "The Red Fist! Yeah, that was my name. I'm the Red Fist."

Isuke shot her a look of utter disbelief. "…'The Red Fist.' You want the entire city to call you 'The Red Fist.'"

Haruki's face warmed a little, but she nodded. "Uh, yeah. I mean, I've got an emblem and everything—" She was interrupted by a hand in front of her face.

"No. Stop. I understand." It looked as if Isuke was about to get a headache. "You're 'The Red Fist' now. I'm going to try to respect that. Your heroic efforts are appreciated by useless bystanders everywhere."

"Er, thanks? I appreciate your help, too, uh, Inukai Isuke."

"No, no, that won't do at all." Isuke's hand began to search a pouch on her belt. "Until you can learn to dress yourself like a proper superhero, you have to address me as 'Isuke-sama.' That outfit you're wearing is a crime in itself. Here." She took a wad of money and shoved it in Haruki's hand. "Isuke is feeling nice today, so this is some money for a few improvements in your attire."

Haruki's grip was loose around the cash. She was a mess today. "So…"

"That will be all. I'm done here." Flipping her hair across her shoulder, Isuke turned around, walking toward the motorcycle she arrived in. "Use that wisely, because Isuke told you to."

The sounds of the engine motorcycle rumbling away rang in Haruki's ear as she stared at the stack of cash in her hand.

_Spend it wisely, huh?_

* * *

A week later, one idle Saturday afternoon, Isuke saw the redheaded hero again, and she noticed, to her ire, that the only difference that the week saw in regards to her attire was a pair of fingerless gloves. It didn't matter to her at all that they were apparently sturdy enough to endure the Red Fist's acts of super strong and careless heroism. The fact was that the color didn't even do the rest of her outfit any justice.

_Ugh, what an idiot, _Isuke thought to herself, staring in discontent at the rookie hero sprinting down the sidewalk. _What could she possibly have wasted the rest of that money on?_

* * *

**A/N: I have no idea what I'm going to do if I make more short stories in the same AU, since they'll most likely be non-linear bits and pieces of stuff. Do I add chapter to this story even if they're unrelated? Do I publish them as separate stories and hope I don't clutter the archives? Idk but it probably (probably) won't be something I have to deal with in the near future because wow I'm slooow.**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed. Leave some feedback if you want. :3**


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